An American Wolf No Where Near Paris
by Wapitihart
Summary: The Order asks for help from an American Auror to help defeat the Dark Lord.


He woke with a start, grasping his wand tightly in his left hand. Blinking rapidly, his eyes finally readjusted to the dim lighting, and he remembered where he was. The groaning of the frame of the house should've been his first clue. The shrieking shack was well known for it's span of sounds, but the one sound that wasn't part of the shacks charm, was that of the screaming man downstairs. Grasping the end table with his free hand, he pulled himself up to his feet, swaying slightly before steadying himself and heading downstairs.

Taking the steps slowly, he made it to the bottom floor and within a few turns down a few hallways, the screaming was at it's loudest. And there in the kitchen, was a man spell bound to a chair (right where Jericho had left him), and two others standing with their arms crossed staring at the man. "Must you allow him to make so much god damn noise, Remus?" Jericho yelled over top the man's screaming, bringing a hand up to rub his temples.

Remus turned a stern look on his face, "Oh I am sorry Jericho, I wasn't aware your sleep was more important then ridding the world of the dark lord." Jericho dropped his hand and the two of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Sirius stepped in and ended the fight between the apparent two year olds.

"You two can bicker later, we have some information to get right now, so Jericho, if you don't mind?" Sirius asked, stepping aside. Jericho tore his gaze away from Remus, stepping up to the screaming man, whose voice was beginning to go hoarse. Jericho lifted his wand and placed it at the man's throat, and he abruptly stopped screaming. At first he wondered why the other two weren't able to do this part themselves, but then realized they were without their wands at the moment, being used elsewhere for the moment being.

Pushing his wand further to the man's throat, he would ask him in a whispering tone, "Tell me, you don't happen to know what Voldemort's plans are do you Dedalious?" The man looked frightened, as he ought to be, he had three members of the Order in front of him, and one having a wand to his throat. "I'll give you a moment to think of your response." Jericho pulled back now, lowering his wand but keeping a steady eye on Dedalious. The room was eerily quiet, filled only with the ragged, quick breaths of the spell bound man. Jericho examined his wand in those few moments of silence, knowing the suspense was going to be too much for Dedalious, and he would talk, of course he might need a little encouragement first. Remus and Sirius didn't much approve of Jericho's ways, but they never complained when he got the job done. They usually just pushed him off as "that American Cowboy and his American ways", and he was fine with that.

After a few, what can only be imagined as brutal moments for Dedalious, Jericho lowered his wand to point it at the man, who visually shuttered, once again. "Anything to say Dedalious?" Jericho would ask, "No?" The second part was spoken as if he wasn't surprised, nonchalant and melancholy, followed by an equally nonchalant, " _Deprimo."_ Dedalious looked like a million tons of pressure had been forced upon him as he sat in the chair, he couldn't scream, as much as Jericho knew he wanted to. It was because there literally was tons of pressure bearing down on him at that moment, every square inch of pressure was squeezing the air and comfortableness out of every pocket of the mans body. Think of how it feels when you dive under the water and your ears start to feel that pressure, it was exactly like that, but over your entire body. Not a pleasant experience. Jericho stood there, waiting until the last possible second before casting the counter spell. _"Deprima."_ Dedalious' entire body relaxed and slumped forward as he caught his breath.

Jericho stepped forward, crouching down and tilted the man's head back with his wand so he could look at him. "Are we ready to talk yet?" Jericho asked, ready and willing to continue his "American cowboy ways." However, Dedalious nodded.

"Y-yes. P-p-please don't do that a-again. I'll tell you a-anything." Jericho smiled, and turned to face Sirius and Remus.

"That went more smoothly then I expected." Looking more at Remus then Sirius. Remus nodded.

"Indeed," Remus said as he strode forward towards Dedalious, "Now, tell us what are the next moves for the Death Eaters? Where will they strike next?" Remus' face was stern, serious, and angry.

"The house with that red headed family- The Weasleys. Tomorrow night, midnight." Dedalious almost sobbed out. "Please, kill me now. If the Dark Lord finds out I betrayed him.." He pleaded.

"You should've banked on someone else then mate, tough luck." Jericho said, turning to Sirius now, "We have to warn them, Potter is with them now isn't he?" Seriousness brushed across his features now, he had never met the Potter kid, or the Weasley family, but all he knew was that Potter was important to defeating Voldemort, and the Weasley's were good folk.

"Yes, we move now, they have to be warned." Sirius agreed, he turned and gathered what little things they had. Remus followed suit and began to pack as well. Jericho didn't have anything to pack so he just leaned against the wall, listening to the other two pack, and the captured Death Eater begin to weep and wail.


End file.
